Bitter Tears Come from the Fallen

Bitter Tears Come From The Fallen

"I'm a monster."

"No, you're not," I said, not quite believing myself.

"Yes, I am. It's my fault he's dead."

"It's not your fault," I say, though I can't help but think that it is.

He lets out an anguished sob, much like the ones he'd made earlier that day.

"Draco, it's not your fault," I said, while thinking, "Why am I comforting him? He's disgusting. He's horrible. He's one of them."

It was the summer just after my 6th year. I was at home. Mum and Dad were out. I'd seen so little of them lately. I was lonely, already missing Harry and Ron. I knew that I would be seeing them in just a few weeks, but I hated being away from them, just after Dumbledore's death.

That's when I heard someone knocking on my door. I answered, thinking that it would just be a neighbor or perhaps someone from the Order. I never expected to see Draco Malfoy at the door.

He started telling me about becoming a Death Eater and how he had been given the task of murdering Dumbledore and about what had been happening to him over the last week. When I asked him why he had come to me, he said that I was the only one who would understand.

"I need your help," Draco whimpered.

"Why?" I asked. "What is it?"

"I want to get put," Draco said. "I don't want to be a Death Eater any more. Dumbledore promised me safety."

"I can't give you that," I said.

"I know. And I'm not asking you for it," Draco said. He straitened up and wiped his nose. "It's my mother. After I leave, she'll need protection. Please, you have to help her. She's not like them. She'll help your side. Please, you have to help her."

I nodded, not sure about what I could do for Narcissa Malfoy.

"When are you leaving?" I asked.

"I already did," he replied. "Just now."

"Is anyone going with you?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Just me. I asked Professor Snape to come with me, but he said that it's too late for him."

"Where will you go?" I ask.

He shrugs. "Anywhere I can. I'll have to leave the country, I suppose." He stands up. "I need to go now. It won't be long before they find out that I've left."

"How long have you been gone?" I ask.

"A week," he replies. "I left right after Dumbledore was killed. They'll find out soon. I need to leave right now." He stands up and walks to the door. He opens it, and then turns back to me. "Promise me you'll help my mother."

"I promise," I say, though I don't know how I can.

"And Professor Snape," Draco says, "Don't hold him accountable. He didn't have any other choice. He'd promised Dumbledore never to give himself away. He says that he can still give your side information, if you're willing to give it to them and not tell them who it's from."

I nodded. "Alright."

"And please tell the Slytherins in our year that everything will be alright," he says. "Pansy especially."

I nod, again. "Alright, I'll do that. Good bye, Draco."

He nods. "Good bye, Gr... Hermione."

Then he leaves.

I sit down on the couch, finding it hard to breathe.

I think about Draco and his mother and Snape. I wonder if any of the others cried, too. When Dumbledore died, everyone on our side's tears were like that of angels, sweet and sad. I wonder if on the other side in they're tears were bitter and remorseful. I can't imagine them any other way.

That gets me thinking about how many Death Eaters really chose their fate, or if they were pushed into it with no other choices. Part of me wonders if there's any way to help them. To raise the fallen.

I shrug, not really sure. Laying down on the couch and closing my eyes, I think about how I can help them. How I can help Narcissa Malfoy. How I can help Severus Snape. And, especially, how I can help Draco Malfoy.

But, all my thoughts are put aside as I fall asleep, dreams filling my mind.